


homesick at space camp

by imsodumbmister



Series: Danganronpa and Fanganronpa One-Shots [4]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, Out of Character, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27418825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsodumbmister/pseuds/imsodumbmister
Summary: tonight the headphones will deliver you the words that i can't say, a million miles away
Relationships: Momota Kaito/Oma Kokichi
Series: Danganronpa and Fanganronpa One-Shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164926
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	homesick at space camp

**Author's Note:**

> why did i write a too-long drabble about one character i hate and one i love  
> this sucks  
> i'm honestly sorry if you're reading it

Kokichi Ouma had always taken it for granted that no one would ever fall in love with him. As smart as the teenage boy was, he didn’t realize the extent of his own charms; perhaps some part of him, locked away deep in his psyche under all his layers of lies and smiles and unhealthy coping mechanisms, knew. But it was impossible to say for sure.

Even if Ouma’s self-hatred-induced blind spot hadn’t affected his judgement in this area, and he had been able to predict that one of his classmates would fall in love with him, Momota certainly wouldn’t have even been a possibility in his mind. Iruma, maybe, with her provocative-yet-shy smiles and her flirtatious remarks, or Saihara, with the way he was always looking at the ground and blushing when Ouma approached him (or maybe Saihara was just like that with everybody, Ouma reflected). But Momota? Never. 

Momota seemed big and scary to Kokichi, much taller than him, and had punched him in the face once in the locker room in junior high. Ouma, small and always wary of others, had never forgotten this, and still tended to shrink away from the other boy in the school hallways, although they were in the eleventh grade now. 

But Ouma had been walking home alone after school one rainy, uneventful afternoon, with no fellow students, other people, or even animals in sight (he had checked multiple times, out of nervousness), and the weirdest thing had happened. He had begun to cry. Warm, wet tears suddenly dripped from his pale face; choked sobs twisted in his throat. It was only after Ouma, dizzy and shocked by his own emotions, half sat down and half collapsed onto the grass that he realized how cold it was. Cold and dark. Of course it was, Ouma scolded himself. Didn’t he even know that? 

Couldn’t he do anything right? He shivered there in the grass for a moment, wondering how cold the weather would have to be for the tears that were still pouring from his eyes started to freeze to his face.

And then, suddenly, Ouma felt the warm sensation of a jacket around his shoulders. He was hallucinating, he told himself. Maybe this was what it felt like to die of frostbite? Whilst Ouma wondered if Hell would really live up to all the hype, he heard footsteps behind him, and suddenly he whirled around. It was Momota.

Ouma cowered. “D-don’t hurt me!”, he pleaded with his classmate. Momota marveled for a while over how fragile the boy seemed now. At school, he was feared for his intimidating presence and his pranks. Momota, however, had suspected for the better part of their high school career that the other boy was faking it. And this all but proved that theory. Momota had also been in love with Ouma since junior high, when, out of fear of his own feelings, he had misguidedly hit him. That was no excuse, Momota knew. Clearing his head, he looked at Ouma with soft purple eyes. “Of course I’m not gonna hurt you, dumbass!”, he laughed, grinning. “I gave you my jacket, didn’t I?”

Ouma looked down at the purple-and-white jacket he was now wearing in surprise. Kaito chuckled. Ouma looked adorable in the coat; it was far too big, and almost drowned him. What surprised Momota more than any of the other revelations of the night so far, though, was when Ouma took the coat off, still shivering something frightful, and handed it back to Momota. “I-I don’t deserve this.”, he said softly, forcing the same grin he was infamous for at school. This time, though, it seemed different. (But the grin wasn’t different at all, Kaito realized, he and his classmates just hadn’t understood it before.) 

“Don’t be ridiculous!”, Kaito frowned. “Why would I want you to freeze?” Ouma let out a small giggle. Momota looked at him in surprise. The giggling continued, then erupted into loud, raucous, bitter laughter as Kaito stood gawking at Kokichi. “B-because you hate me, idiot! All of you do! Don’t you even know who you h-hate?!”

Kaito continued to stare. “Ouma, you idiot. I’ve… I’ve been in love with you for years.” Ouma glared at him, sniffling. “I-I HATE LIARS! DON’T LIE TO ME! Y-YOU’RE JUST MAKING FUN OF ME!” And he ran away, still shivering, before Momota could do anything about it.


End file.
